Review: Real Rap by Benjamin Urkowitz

Real Rap 1-4 by Benjamin UrkowtizPublished by Oily ComicsYou can buy them here

I first became aware of Benjamin Urkowitz’s Real Rap, published by Oily Comics, when I stumbled onto this art print of its main character. It had been reblogged on Tumblr by Michael DeForge, and, I have to admit, what I saw surprised me.

At first glance, this looked to me like a grotesque blackface caricature in the minstrel tradition, complete with enormous lips, ironic “urban” speech, and white, gloved hands. I was taken aback because, as far as I can tell, DeForge is not a cartoonist who would endorse playing fast and loose with race; I assumed that there was something more going on, something I was missing. When I read Tucker Stone’s effusive review of Real Rap 3 and 4, I figured I had to buy the comics and read them for myself, because I just could not figure out how that main character (“Duh Studge”) wasn’t just an ugly racial stereotype. After reading issues 1-4 several times, my apprehensions have been largely dispelled. I’ll get into a bit more detail below.

Real Rap 1-4 (of a projected 6) focus on the antics of an unlikeable, white rapper (more on this later) named Duh Studge, whose mission in life is to return hip hop to its roots (or, at least, his impression of them). Over each 12 page issue we see Duh Studge struggle with his day-to-day life, strained human interaction, dead end job, and pathetic rap career. The only other recurring main character is Nast-E Nick-E (Nicky), who is Duh Studge’s only friend (and, implicitly, a much better rapper than he is, although that’s not much of an achievement).

Urkowitz draws in stark black and white, largely favoring contour drawing and heavy blacks over any hatching or ziptone shading. The effect is what I would call a pretty archetypal “alternative comics 2013” look. It references the undergrounds, puts heavy emphasis on layering, pattern, and lettering, and self-consciously assigns a set of highly schematic features to each character (to the point where the characters look like they’ve all been teleported in from different universes). Urkowitz is clearly very skilled, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed by the excellent execution of certain pages. There’s a sense of humor and composition in Real Rap that absolutely sets it above the majority of minicomics I’ve picked up, and the fact that it has a coherent story and consistent characters makes it stand head and shoulders above the vast wasteland of ill-thought-out, single-premise minis.

In its best moments, Real Rap reminds me of Segar’s Thimble Theatre. The earnest weirdness of Duh Studge, and his crippling, sweaty insecurity (not to mention the distinct visual signifiers of the above) reminded me of King Blozo (or sick Popeye from that storyline where he thinks he’s a cowboy) from the first sweat bullet. Of course, this just made me want to put down Real Rap and read Thimble Theatre instead; it would be a rare comic that gets compared to Segar and isn’t found lacking in some way. Despite that impulse, I do mean the comparison to be flattering. One of Segar’s great strengths was his ability to evoke universal human experiences through his exaggerated, deceptively cartoony characters, and it’s a strength Urkowitz seems to share. Duh Studge’s panic attacks and sheer incompetence make him a remarkably compelling character, to the point where it starts to feel like he’s approaching a platonic cartoon ideal of “neurotic everyman.”

(sorry for the poor quality photo)

Had I not seen the art print first, I don’t know that I would have initially thought that Duh Studge was an ugly racial caricature. Urkowitz goes out of his way to clarify that Duh Studge is a stupid white guy, which helps take the edge off of what could easily have been a very racist comic. I, personally, would not have chosen to draw Duh Studge the way Urkowitz did (his sole defining features being his swollen donut lips, fat rolls, and sweat), and it’s unclear to me why Urkowitz shaded the art print the way he did. Duh Studge is almost racist, because without the constant clarifications that he’s a white guy, there would be nothing separating him from a pretty ugly stereotype, especially when that art print is added into the mix. I know it’s unlikely that Urkowitz is thinking about this character as bordering on minstrelsy, but the subject matter (white author writes about a hulking, incompetent idiot who speaks in exaggerated dialect and is trying to take hip hop back to its roots) doesn’t do him any favors. This isn’t a Fukitor situation though, and he does largely manage to sidestep the problems I thought I’d encounter when I started reading.

This isn’t to say that I didn’t have any issues with the comic. The thing that made me most uncomfortable about Real Rap was the sense of deliberate mean-spiritedness with which Urkowitz approaches certain characters and situations, especially the character of Nicky. There’s an insincerity to Urkowitz’s portrayal of this butch, lesbian rapper that feels very much like he’s laughing at the concept of her existence (she has a “quasi-masculine appearance,” wears penis-shaped earrings, is hypersexual, takes things too personally, etc.). The page below is a good example – the way Urkowitz writes “depraved males who have been psychologically fucked since birth by our twisted, miserable culture” reminds me of the way Crumb says, “aren’t men horrible?” It comes across as winking language, invoking an unreasonable straw-feminist discourse and it seems unnecessary, especially considering that so much of the comic is so self consciously exploring human vulnerability. Between the almost-racist Duh Studge and the way Nicky is portrayed, Real Rap feels like it’s teetering on the brink of self-conscious offensiveness. It’s unclear to me whether this is part of some brilliant plan on Urkowitz’s part or if it’s just a result of thoughtlessness; I’d like to believe the latter, just because the characters do have a level of nuance in their interaction that belies boldfaced stereotyping.

Urkowitz is one of the current editors of SVA’s student comics anthology, INK, which I reviewed way back in this article. Despite my apprehensions about certain aspects of his execution, these are fundamentally very solid comics, and the storytelling is unquestionably good. There’s one scene in particular that still makes me laugh when I think about it, in which Duh Studge tries to stage a fake interview with himself (Urkowitz’s use of YouTube, internet comments, and Twitter as narrative frameworks is enviably good). Urkowitz is inventive in the way he approaches storytelling, and there’s a visible improvement in the art between Real Rap 1 and 4. I don’t think I can go as far as some have in endorsing this comic – it’s smart and interesting, but at best, it’s a very competent comic. It’s not a brain-blast from the planet WOW! or anything, but it’s well done, and that’s really good enough for me.

It’s worth nothing as well that these comics are excellently priced. Oily Comics prices their minis at $1 each, which makes trying comics like Real Rap a no-brainer. I was able to pick up Real Rap 1-4 for roughly $5, which is an almost unbeatable price for a set of indie comics like this. You can pick up Real Raphere, if you’re interested. Issue 5 just dropped, and it doesn’t seem like Urkowitz is about to stop making comics anytime soon. I’m definitely excited to see where he goes from here.

28 Comments

Can a comic’s writing excuse racist visual imagery? Especially when the writing is self-consciously excusing the imagery?

I’m not suggesting that this comic is 100% racist– I have not read it– and more than trust Jacob’s analysis of its portrayals of race. But I wonder if the art, not the writing, has the final say in Duh Studge’s race. If it doesn’t, why do we favor the writing? It seems to me that there might be two (or more) narratives being told in this comic, and that the writing and imagery depart from each other on several levels.

There’s something there possibly about white appropriation of black culture? That seems like part of what the comic is bout from Jacob’s description. Not exactly sure how that fits into the word/image dichotomy you’re talking about Kailyn, but seems like it could.

It’s obvious that a treatment of white appropriation of black culture is in there, (I’m guessing buried under several layers of self deprecation and irony… )

And white appropriation of black culture is an easy target, and provides its own shallow stereotypes, which as Jacob mentions, Urkowitz belies verbally and visually in his nuanced portrayals of the characters. (Even with exaggerated cartooning.) White rapping becomes a (sweaty) font of male vulnerability.

But what does it say that white rapping is visually represented by a bloated, contorted form of black-face? That white rapping is, in itself, blackface, but the reality of it can be excused by the humanity of the white rappers?

There isn’t anything explaining that this character is white. Still, I think this page, isolated on its own, suggests a micro-story about fantasy, and uses race as a punch line, and for visual interest. I don’t think that isolating the character’s visual representation from the narrative makes our ‘takeaway’ any less valuable– comics has long been identified by its iconicity, and in some ways, creating a character is a submission of an icon into the comics field.

As Jacob points out, its hard to know that Stu is white without reading the comic, just as most people probably aren’t aware that Sailor Moon is supposed to be ethnically Japanese (although with the moon lineage part, who knows?)

So Urkowitz’s narrative is still valid, still an achievement, but still problematized by what its visuals are whispering under it, or say when the narrative isn’t around…

Andreas and I both read the comics, and I think we both agreed that race is largely irrelevant to the plot. Urkowitz is approaching the comic from a kind of warped Shonen standpoint: our protagonist thinks modern rap is no good, and he sets out to be the BEST!!! That being said, the topic Urkowitz has chosen IS inherently racialized, and he’s chosen to draw his protagonist with undeniably charged (cartoon) racial signifiers, both in looks and speech.

I’ve been giving a lot of thought to your question though, Kailyn. In some cases I think writing CAN excuse racist imagery, an obvious example being someone writing about Jim Crow or the history of minstrelsy. Another situation in which racist imagery could be used without necessarily implicating its author would be in a situation where a character is a racist, which provides a framework through which the racism is contextualized.

Real Rap doesn’t really approach questions of race in a meaningful way (in one scene Duh Studge hears a man philosophizing about how he’s (I’m paraphrasing) “a member of the black race, the most miserable people to ever live,” and his response is to soliloquize about how, no, the man is CRAZY, which transcends race). I guess my approach to it has been to assume best intention on the part of Urkowitz, that he didn’t mean his main character to look like a minstrel stereotype, but instead meant him to look like the Michelin Man (which might, actually, be an uncomfortably apt comparison).

And Jacob, I think your point made in the middle paragraph, and in your earlier review, make a lot of sense. And I truly don’t think the character was meant to look like a black caricature, that it was part of the master plan of the comic.

But I’m still unconvinced that this comic doesn’t have a second, perhaps more treacherous layer of meaning running underneath whatever the comic is trying to excuse. And that Urkowitz began to have some inkling of what else was coming out as he put together the story, and maybe worked to suppress it. I think the comic’s working to excuse its visuals (He’s WHITE!!!) sounds like an interesting tension, and I’ll have to see if my opinion changes when I read the book.

Urkowitz is a friend of mine, but when I first recieved Real Rap 1, I didn’t know him so well. As a multiracial Jamaican-American with my own ongoing racial identity crisis, I am forced to think about race almost every day. When Ben handed me Real Rap, I remember taking one look at Duh Studge and saying, “Oh boy. Am I going to have feelings about this?” Ben sincerely had no idea what I was talking about.

I did end up having feelings, once it occurred to me that Duh Studge is actually a white young man, bloated with insecurity, desperately appropriating black culture in order to feel like he is a part of something. I felt ashamed of myself for only noticing two aspects of the character (his mouth and his exaggerated speech) and assuming what his race was. I experienced this realization quickly (within the first few pages) and was eventually delighted with the comic’s ability to manipulate my emotions that way. From what I can tell, race has little to do with this story, aside from the reader’s brief initial struggle and the exploration of The White Rapper archetype.

The reviewer’s interpretation of Urkowitz’s relationship to his character Nicky is interesting. In fact, I’d like to re-read it with his ideas in mind. He wonders if the artist simply “laughs” at this character’s existence. Nicky is clearly the smartest, most “normal” character in the story which, to me, signifies that Nicky is the character the reader is meant to identify with. I certainly did. Maybe that’s because Nicky is (if I had to guess) an entertaining caricature of the kind of confident, creative, Queer types the artist surrounds himself with and admires. The only funny thing about Nicky (besides her classic “straight-man” exasperation) is the way she is drawn. Her strange shape and bumpy skin reflect the grotesque playfulness we’ve come to expect from the artist. Nicky is likable so that Duh Studge can be pathetic and cringeworthy. The only mean-spiritedness is directed at Duh Studge and even this is slightly diluted by pity.

In other words: I don’t know, I’m tired. This comic cost a DOLLAR. This kid’s got the goods.

” I remember taking one look at Duh Studge and saying, “Oh boy. Am I going to have feelings about this?” Ben sincerely had no idea what I was talking about.

I did end up having feelings, once it occurred to me that Duh Studge is actually a white young man, bloated with insecurity, desperately appropriating black culture in order to feel like he is a part of something. I felt ashamed of myself for only noticing two aspects of the character (his mouth and his exaggerated speech) and assuming what his race was. I experienced this realization quickly (within the first few pages) and was eventually delighted with the comic’s ability to manipulate my emotions that way.”

Feelings, nothing more than feelings,
trying to forget my feelings of love.
Teardrops rolling down on my face,
trying to forget my feelings of love.

Feelings, for all my life I’ll feel it.
I wish I’ve never met you, girl; you’ll never come again.

Feelings, wo-o-o feelings,
wo-o-o, feel you again in my arms.

Feelings, feelings like I’ve never lost you
and feelings like I’ve never have you again in my heart.

Feelings, for all my life I’ll feel it.
I wish I’ve never met you, girl; you’ll never come again.

Feelings, feelings like I’ve never lost you
and feelings like I’ve never have you again in my life.

I encourage the reviewer and those of you commenting that have not read the entirety of Real Rap to read the rest of the story– issues 5 & 6 directly address the “concerns” that have been voiced about cultural appropriation, and imo the intentions of the author are transparent. In these later issues, we hear more from Nicky’s character that solidifies her perspective and role in the narrative (a sexual being that isn’t sexualised? Wow!)

Thanks for the comments Nora and Emily – I want to respond to them at length, but will have to do that a little later this evening.

Just one thing, Emily – as of right now, Real Rap 5 has only just been published, right? When I bought everything I could get my hands on, 1-4 and the print were all that was available. I don’t doubt that the story is made more complicated and completed in issues 5 and 6, but you can hardly blame me for reviewing everything that was available, right?

Alex, I’m not sure why the launch into song…are you just giddy today for some reason? I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be, but it’s a little distracting when folks are talking; maybe another thread another time?

Nora’s initial reaction sounds exactly like Jacob’s (that is, concern about where the racial material is going to go.) It sounds like Ben has gotten that elsewhere as well. I’d agree with Kailyn that it doesn’t seem like a crazy first reaction to have, especially considering the underground/indie comic context in which racial caricature is not always handled so well.

Hi, I drew this comic. As I said on twitter, I don’t think it’s my place as the author to participate in any discussion of my work – the work speaks for itself, and stands apart from what I was “really trying to say” – but I wanna make a couple points clear:

1. I have absolutely considered the racial implications of my comic. I spent 2 years working on Real Rap (issues 3-6 were drawn and largely written this summer). I started the comic when I was almost 19, and now I’m almost 21. I’ve had time to think about this. The role of race is not incidental to the comic’s narrative. Whether or not it is handled well is the reader’s call.

2. The character of Nicky is meant to be portrayed with sincerity. Whether or not the portrayal is successful or not is, again, up to the reader. In my opinion, the last thing our culture needs is more disgusting representations of queer women and women of color, and I have no interest in contributing to such representations. In any event, the text on the back cover of issue 2 is in no way ironic.

3. Fuck Robert Crumb.

I could say more, but I’d rather not. I’m not interested in defending my work or in convincing anyone of my “pure intentions.” There is nothing to my work except what’s on the page – that is to say, whatever I was thinking at the time makes no difference to your experience of reading – and I take full responsibility for all of it. Having said all that, I’m very grateful that anyone would spend any time thinking about my comic whatsoever.

Also, to AB: If you have an email or Twitter or anything, I have something I’d like to tell you elsewhere.

Nora, thank you for sharing your own experience. I think you and I are almost exactly on the same page – I’m with Kailyn, though, that I don’t think you should feel ashamed of reading into the visual signifiers of a comic. It’s a worthwhile investigation, and I hope very much that my review made clear, these are amazingly priced, pretty great comics. I liked them, and my concerns were largely allayed by the time I’d finished reading them.

As far as the character of Nicky goes, as I said, I felt discomfort with some parts of the narrative. Nora, you paraphrase me as saying that Urkowitz “simply laughs” at the character, but that’s not what I said or mean. I thought his approach, his caricature of this lesbian rapper, was a little too broad, and I thought some of his language seemed insincere. I truly hope that didn’t come across as me saying somehow, “Urkowitz is a bigot who hates XYZ.”

If Nicky is meant to be the “true” protagonist or sympathetic character of these comics, I didn’t get that impression. That doesn’t mean she isn’t, but it’s just not what I understood from my read through – maybe issues 5 and 6 really modify that character in a big way. I’ll know when I read them.

Emily, as I mentioned before, there wasn’t really a way for me to review the whole story at this point, but I will be interested to see where it goes. I don’t think I really talked about cultural appropriation, but I do hope I was fair in talking about what I liked and didn’t like about these comics. As I mentioned several times, I think Ben is very talented, and I quite enjoyed his work.

Ben, thanks again for your comments today. Also, holy shit you’re young, the fact that you’re not even 21 makes me feel both old and unproductive. Keep it up.

The world at large, I’m seeing some pushback against this article, even suggesting that I said that Real Rap is “about mocking black culture.” I want to make it clear, again, that I did not say that – this was a positive review of a series of minis that I largely liked, dammit. Sorry that I write for a website some of you don’t like.

In conclusion, you can buy these comics here. They are $1 each, and worth reading, if only so that you can make up your own mind.

You have nothing to apologize for, Jacob. Frankly your review becomes less compelling and more frustrating to me the more I think about it, but your job obviously isn’t to satisfy me as the author. Still, I’m happy that people are talking about what they find problematic in the work, since I’ve gotten very little of that even though I felt uncertain about how some of my ideas would be received.

Also, I wanna stress that my beef with HU is entirely separate from this review. I think most of the writing on this site is very bad. I think this review of my work is fair and well-written.

Also, if anyone is worried that by buying my work they’re supporting an evil bigot: I make 10 cents an issue sold. The first issue sold 350 copies over months, and I made 35 dollars. So yeah, don’t let that stop you.

[…] Rap: I found out about Real Rap by Benjamin Urkowtiz from a review of it over at the Hooded Utilitarian by Jacob Canfield and was immediately fascinated with the premise. I ordered my own copy of the […]